A Very Merry Scarecrow Christmas
by Bastetian
Summary: Before they were in the Arctic, they were in the Sahara and Zack Weinberg really should have known that it would never be a quiet Christmas with the Scarecrow around. My entry for the Presidian Reunion Group Christmas Challenge.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **So the deadline for the Presidian Christmas Challenge is tomorrow and I'm cutting it a little tight here! Hopefully, I'll have chapter two of this up by some ridiculous hour of tonight or probably tomorrow morning. It'll be finished by tomorrow, I'm sure it will…

Chapter 1

Perhaps with hindsight, Zack Weinberg thought he should have realised that their nice safe little testing expedition would never have gone quite to plan with a man like the Scarecrow around.

Seven weeks prior to their rescue following the Dragon Island Escapade, the small team of scientists and soldiers had just landed in the remotest location in the world, the Arctic, and were glad for it. After all, they were still recovering from their rather traumatic Christmas and surely nothing else could possibly happen in the Arctic?

Eight weeks before that, none of it had happened yet.

**25****th**** December, 0816**

Despite the baking heat, Shane Schofield jogged across the compound, ducking from one tent to another. The sun was barely up but the minute she poked her head above the horizon, the complete enveloping heat of day begun and not one member of the team wanted to spend any more time than they had to in it.

The team was midway through their first posting of the expedition – the harsh, unforgiving landscape of the Sahara Desert. The world's hottest desert, stretching over three and a half million miles from Mauritania to Sudan, provided all the space and extreme conditions the testing team was looking for.

On their first arrival in the Tuat region of Algeria, Mother had expressed her hearty approval – the marines' primary job was to keep an eye on the scientists and occasionally play with the toys they had brought for testing, which would leave plenty of time for sunbathing around the many natural oases that made up the region.  
Or so she had thought.

Mario had been as surly as ever but the remaining male members of the team – Zack, The Kid and Schofield himself – supressed snorts of laughter as they continued to load the equipment onto the waiting vehicles. It was left to the petit Emma to explain to Mother, with a gentle hand on her shoulder and an even gentler voice, that their base camp would be set up at least an hour away from the closest oasis so that there wouldn't be any unfortunate repercussions of any small, or not so small, explosions they may cause.

Which was why Schofield was careful to stick to the weak shadows cast by their makeshift camp as he moved from the tent that housed all their electronic equipment to the common area where he hoped to find Mother; the tents didn't provide much in the way of relief from the baking heat but at least they offered some protection from the unforgiving sun. Pushing the tent flap aside, he indeed found Mother along with Emma and Billy 'The Kid' Thompson.

Emma Dawson, a remarkably pretty and diligent meteorologist from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, had pulled the lucky straw. She was working quietly on her laptop in the shade of the tent. Emma wasn't involved in the equipment testing that was the primary focus of the expedition. Instead, she was accompanying the team to monitor the varying effects of climate change in these extreme weather locations. In the Sahara, she was measuring the annual rainfall and the declining water table levels that fed the oases, which in turn provided the other means of life in the otherwise impossible environment.  
Exactly how she was measuring that when not a single drop of water had fallen during their time there was beyond the marines.

Zack Weinberg, a DARPA scientist, and the last marine member of their team, the surly Italian by the name of Mario, on the other hand had drawn the short straw. Barely into their eight week stay in the Sahara, Zack had discovered a problem with his pet project – an independent tactical robot with some serious offensive capabilities - designated BRTE-500, or Bertie. Bertie, they had discovered, did not like sand. His wheels failed to gain traction on it and whenever they let him out for testing, the boiling sand would become stuck inside the grooves of the tires, burning microscopic holes. The first sign they'd had of this problem was when they brought him back the first time. As he trailed around the tent after Zack like a puppy, he left thin lines of foul smelling ooze which turned out to be melting rubber.

Zack, bummed by the failure, had spent the however many next days in his workshop before finally dragging the reluctant Mario out to test the six, yes _six_, new prototype tyres he'd developed.  
Mario was less than impressed.

The other two remaining scientists, an uptight weapons Senior Executive by the name of Hartigan and his personal assistant, Chad, were nowhere to be seen but that wasn't unusual.  
They mostly kept to their private tents.

Which just left the last two marines, Mother and The Kid, sprawled across the makeshift couches in the common tent. There was no chance of them getting any television signal out here so the two marines were keeping as still and as cool as possible. In the background, Schofield could hear music playing, the gentle riffs of The Kid's country music as opposed to Mother's rock n' roll, kept low so as not to disturb Emma.

Striding over to Mother, Schofield held out a piece of paper that had just come through on their dodgy satellite internet connection.

Slowly, Mother cracked open one eye just wide enough to take in the serious look on Schofield's face and the official looking header on the piece of paper.

"That better not be what I think it is," she growled.

"Come on. Up," Schofield commanded, "We've got a mission."

The Kid's voice was muffled from where he lay face down on the couch.  
"We're already on a mission," he groaned.

Ignoring him, Schofield raised a single eyebrow at Mother who hadn't moved an inch.

"We're in the middle of the fucking desert," she said, "It's fucking hot, yesterday I thought I saw a fucking mirage and it's fucking Christmas."

Schofield just held the paper out steady until she reluctantly swung her not inconsiderable bulk into an upright position, still muttering curses under her breath, and snatched the paper from his hand.

"Diplomat's daughter been kidnapped by a ramshackle organisation," Schofield said as he crossed the room and slapped The Kid lightly about the shoulders until he too was on his feet. "Should be a milk run."

"Oh God, don't say that," Mother's voice interjected behind him.

"Why not?" The Kid asked curiously.

"Cause with him around," Mother jerked her head towards Schofield. "It's never a fucking milk run."

**25****th**** December, 1127**

It hadn't taken the small team of marines long to assemble their gear into one of the off-road vehicles they had used to get from Tuat to their base camp. The supposed 'headquarters' of the unknown organisation who had taken the girl was about three hours' drive away. A satellite had caught an image of a cluster caves with some suspicious additions just north of their position, which was where the four marines were now headed. Having stopped off briefly to steal Mario back from Zack, they would drive the majority of the way there across the desert until they were approximately three miles out. Getting into the caves themselves would be a more subtle affair.

"Remind me why we have to do this," Mother yelled over the roar of the sand whipping past the vehicle.

"Because," Schofield yelled back, "Algeria still isn't overly fond of the US and the government doesn't want the political fallout that would follow them sending a US military team in. Besides, we were in the area and it was convenient."

He didn't add that if they wanted to get that little girl back alive, speed was of the essence. Neither the government nor the girl's family had been able to provide any reason for the kidnapping. There had been no ransom demanded and neither the Algerians nor the Americans wanted to disrupt the tentative peace forming in the region.  
But without a motive, the kidnappers had no reason for keeping her alive.

They abandoned the vehicle at the top of a rocky outcrop, still well out of sight of the caves. Contrary to popular belief, the Sahara desert is not actually made up of endless sand dunes. Instead, its surface was broken with hundreds upon thousands of stony plateaus known as hamadas. This particular hamada in which the kidnappers had set up their hideaway, was home to an extensive cave system and could only be approached by a dried valley.

For a bunch of supposedly impromptu kidnappers, it was a good set up and that had Schofield's senses on high alert.

The four marines made their approach from the top of the ridge. Without any sure intel of what was waiting for them inside, Schofield had decided a full frontal attack via the valley was nothing short of suicide. As soon as the caves came into view, he was glad of that decision.

"That's a lot of caves for one little girl," The Kid said, staring in horror over the rim at the hundreds of small entrances that dotted the almost sheer sides of the plateau.

"That's a lot of guns for one little girl," Mario sneered.

He was right. At least a dozen of the caves had several armed guards posted at the mouths of each one.

"That's our way in," Schofield said, the pieces starting to fall together in his head.

"How," Mario retorted, "In case you didn't notice, there's four of us and at least forty of them, not to mention hundreds of caves where they could be keeping her. Those aren't good odds."

Suddenly, beside him, Mother cast one large hand over her eyes and pointed with the other at an almost invisible but unmistakable glint of metal, high above the caves atop the plateau.  
"What's that," She said.

"It's a water tank," Schofield said slowly as the realisation hit him. "We're hundreds of miles away from the nearest water source so they'll need a tank. They can't survive without it. It's gotta be important enough to them that if we blow it up, they'll go check it out."

"Oh yeah, sure, blow up the water tank," Mother said, "no problem."

"And you just happen to know which one of those caves has got the girl in it?" Mario scoffed disbelievingly.

Schofield turned to him, a deadly smile lighting his lips.

"Those caves must interconnect underground," he said, pointing to the dozen or so that were marked by guards at their mouths. "They're guarding all the entrances. They've given us the right ones."

It took the four marines little over half an hour to skirt around the edges of the ravine until they reached the top of the plateau. Directly below them, Schofield could see the armed men close enough to I.D. the guns they were holding.

"Shit, they've got MP-5s," he said, pulling back from the edge quickly.

Apart from Mother, who had the prototype Armacorp rifle they were meant to be testing slung across her shoulders, the Algerians' MP-5s were an earlier model of the MP-7s that Schofield and his team carried.

"How they hell did a bunch of wannabe kidnappers in the middle of the fucking desert get MP-5s?" Mother asked furiously.

"From us," Schofield said shrewdly, "as part of the peace treaty I suppose."

"We gave them _weapons_ as part of a peace treaty?" Mother said incredulously. "That is some fucked up shit. No wonder the country's going to the dogs."

Schofield just shrugged as if to say, it's beyond me or you to understand politics.

From their position, the plan – as it was – was for Mother and The Kid to attempt to blow up the tank, nestled just beyond the plateau on the other side of the ravine. Schofield and Mario would infiltrate the cave system and it would be improvisation from there.

"Hey Mother," Shane called to her disappearing back, "Be careful. As soon as you blow that tank, they're going to be on to you."

Mother threw him a cocky grin and a salute.

"Don't cause a diplomatic incident without me," She replied and then they were gone.

Schofield and Mario shimmied right up to the edge of the plateau. They didn't have long to wait before a sudden boom and gush of water high into the air sent the guards below them into a panic. Gesticulating wildly and yelling in what Schofield correctly assumed to be Arabic, all the guards save two ran off in the direction of the disturbance and Schofield sighed with relief.

He spared a moment, just a moment, to wait for a sign from Mother that she was okay.

When it wasn't forthcoming, Schofield shot a pointed look at Mario, signalling at the two guards below them.  
The two were standing in front of what appeared to be the largest opening.  
They were going in that way.

Silently, Schofield slid off the top of the plateau, landing behind the first of the guards with a muffled thump. With his trademark reflexes, Schofield got an arm around the guard's neck and clamped the other hard over his mouth but not before he'd had a second to scuffle.

That second was all it took for the other guard to look over and with a surprised yell, raised his gun.

He tried to swing the other guard's body around to shield himself but the guard was struggling fiercely. He landed a hard jab with his elbow into the side of Schofield's stomach, just slipping past the body armour he was wearing and the moment's distraction took all the time he might have had to defend himself.

The gun cracked loudly and Schofield expected to feel the bullet crash through his skull but it never came. Instead, he was left with an armful of still struggling Algerian kidnapper whilst the other guard crumpled to the ground with what was left of his head, courtesy of a sharp shot from Mario.

Another quick blow to the temple and Schofield had one unconscious and one dead guard at his feet when Mario landed beside him.

He nodded his thanks and cautiously, with their guns raised, they set off into the tunnel.

What they didn't know was that the remaining guards had heard the scuffle over their radios and having found the water tank already destroyed, had immediately hurried back to the main entrance, screaming into their radios as they did so.

Schofield and Mario got maybe twenty paces down the tunnel before a stream of bullets came hurtling out of the darkness towards them. Mario ducked instinctively behind an outcrop for a bit of shelter but Schofield walked calmly down the tunnel, sights raised and picked off the gunman with a single shot through the bridge of his nose. Then he kept on walking.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Mario called to him and Schofield stopped, turned to look at him. "We should stay here, consolidate our position-"

"And wait until we're a nice target with no ammo?" Schofield cut across, gesturing into the darkness. "I'm going that way. You can stay here if you want."

At that moment, a veritable firestorm started up behind them. Thirty odd more armed kidnappers were now filling the mouth of the tunnel, silhouetted against the blazing sunlight.

"Shit, run," Schofield said, hustling Mario along the passageway. Bullets burst the ground at their feet and pinged overhead, bringing rubble down upon them and giving Scarecrow an idea.

He stopped still and spun around, searching his sights for something.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Mario screamed as the kidnappers got closer and closer without Schofield doing anything.

"Waiting," he replied.

Mario drew his own gun and picked off the nearest and they fell with holes to the chest, neck and stomach respectively. Schofield meanwhile, was calm as his sights found what he was searching for. The roof of the cave above their heads was densely packed stone but as you got closer and closer to the entrance, it became less stable. So much so that on one side of the entrance passageway, there was a large steel girder, propping the roof up. Schofield took careful aim and with a single shot of a very special bullet with a strange orange band painted around it, blew the girder clear away. The steel support fell and brought the whole roof of the tunnel with it. Rocks from the size of a fist to the size of a small armchair crashed down upon the hapless kidnappers, pulverising their bodies in an instant.

Mario and Schofield turned heel and ran down the passageway, barely outrunning the falling rocks. Fortunately, as Schofield had seen, the tunnel quickly became more structurally sound and the cave-in was largely confined to the entrance-way.

Total, complete blackness enveloped them.

"The fuck was that?" Mario said angrily, "they were getting real close and you didn't do anything!"

Schofield shrugged though the gesture was useless in the dark.  
"I figured you'd got my back."

Together they made their way cautiously down the tunnel. In the absolute darkness, the only way down was by touch so with one hand each plastered against the wall and Schofield, in the rear, with his other resting lightly on Mario's shoulder, they made their way step by achingly slow step down into the heart of the cave system.

Their guns stayed loosely at their sides, they were useless in the total dark anyway, unless anyone could aim based on the soft crunch of gravel underneath their slow tread, or the almost inaudible hiss of their breathing. They could pass one of the enemy in the passageway and have no idea unless they walked into each other.

Suddenly, in the dark, Mario stumbled and Schofield felt, rather than saw why. The wall beneath his fingers came to a sudden end and he realised they were in a vast open space, still utterly black. In the open space, the blackness felt less close, less oppressive than it did in the passageway but somehow, it felt more threatening, as though it concealed danger in its unreachable corners.  
Schofield's grip on Mario's shoulder tightened. If they got lost in this, they'd never find each other again.

Abruptly, light flared around them and a harsh cacophony of voices filled the void. The two marines had their guns up before the stars had even cleared from their eyes but it was no use. Looking down his gun barrel, Schofield could see at least twenty more barrels pointed back at the two of them.

Having walked, literally, into a trap, they were surrounded.

The sound of both their MP-7s clattering to the floor was drowned out by one steady _braaack _of bullets awash all around them but seemingly miraculously, none of them made contact with either marine. Instead, the glowsticks lit up each kidnapper as they fell to the ground, one after another and still, the bullets kept coming.

It wasn't until Schofield and Mario were surrounded by a pile of bodies that someone else emerging from a side passageway picked up one of the fallen glowsticks, its unearthly pale green light illuminating her broad smiling face.

"Honestly Scarecrow," Mother said, "Can't you stay out of trouble for one minute?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Got it finished with a couple of hours to spare – woo!

Chapter 2

**25****th**** December, 1301**

The eerie half-light of the glowsticks filled the cavern erratically, leaving pockets still in total darkness but Schofield was reasonably confident that there weren't any enemies left alive in one of those pockets. They'd all already be dead if there was. But that said…

"We should move," he ordered. "They'll know something's going down by now and they'll come check it out."

Carefully, he moved around the cavernous space, finding several smaller tunnels that branched off the main passageway. They all seemed to slope downwards, further into the heart of the plateau.  
All save one.

A particularly narrow tunnel with rough walls hidden in a dark corner that snaked its way through the plateau, it seemed nonetheless to head on a reasonably flat path. The air down this passageway tasted less dank and dense somehow as well. Then, Schofield noticed he could see his hand. It was barely silhouetted, a paler gleam against the dark rock walls of the tunnel where he'd rested it, but it was visible. The light was altogether more wholesome than that of the glowsticks.

He had no way of knowing what lay at the end of this tunnel. For all he knew, they might be walking right into the centre of the kidnappers barracks but some instinct in him, one urged on by the promise of natural light and clean air, felt this was the right way.

"Come on," Schofield called back softly to the others.

It seemed he wasn't the only one buoyed by the freer air and together, the four marines jogged down the passageway, making reasonable progress despite the twists and turns.

"How'd you find us?" Schofield asked, turning to Mother as they ran.

Mother just shrugged.  
"You, young man, are wearing a GPS transmitter unit with real time satellite connection. Pretty impressive stuff."

Mother tapped her own GPS transponder unit and her nose and then smiled at him.

Shane, snuffing a laugh, couldn't help but smile back.

He also eyed the DARPA developed wristguard currently covering his forearm. It was the only piece of experimental tech he'd brought with him and in all honesty, he'd done that by accident. He'd become so used to the familiar weight of the wristguard that he'd simply forgotten to take it off.  
Zack at least, would be pleased to know it worked.

Suddenly, he held up a hand to hush her.  
The team came to a halt.  
They had come to the source of the sunlight.

A small shaft led right to the surface of the plateau, the very top was secured with thin but strong looking bars. There would be no escape that way. The light from the shaft illuminated a wide pit that almost filled another cavern.

Slowly, cautiously, the team crept towards the pit.

Schofield, in the lead, peered over –

And blanched.

Not one, but at least two dozen women and girls peered back up at him.

As one, the women began to chatter nervously amongst themselves, looking up at Schofield with clear apprehension and fear in their eyes. Mother, ever curious, joined him at the edge and the women, seeing her large frame and even larger gun began to shriek in earnest now.

Mother drew her maghook, as though determined to get each and every woman out of that pit by herself if she had to but Schofield stopped her with a single hand on her maghook's barrel.

"There isn't enough time," he said. Spinning around, he caught sight of perhaps their only option. Gesturing into a dark corner, he called to the other marines, "Get up on that ledge and stay out of sight."

Then he dropped himself into the pit.

Hoping that the other marines were following his orders, Schofield's keen eyes searched through the women. Down in the pit, the air was stifling, the open shaft didn't bring fresh air down here, only the beating heat of the sun. The air was thick with the stench of fear and human waste. But in the sunlight, Schofield could pick one girl from amongst them. She stood out by the way the light reflected off her pale blonde hair. When he got closer, Shane could see she had bright blue eyes and wasn't as emancipated as the other women that surrounded her. As he walked towards her, the other women drew away from him in clear fear. In this sort of horror, there wasn't room to feel pity for the little girl. There was only room for gladness that it wasn't them. Not yet.

"Nadia?" Shane said, his voice gentle despite his harsh garb and gun. He remembered her name from the briefing package.

The young girl nodded firmly, her jaw set to keep from trembling.  
She couldn't have been older than ten.

"We're here to rescue you," Schofield continued. "Do you think you could tell the others we're not going to hurt you? We need them to be quiet."

She looked at him warily for a moment, then said something in hesitating Arabic to the woman nearest her. Whatever she'd said spread quickly through the pit and the women fell into a stilled hush.

Schofield reached out and gripped her shoulders tightly.  
"We're going to get you out of here. All of you, I promise," he said seriously. "Do you trust me?"

Her small blonde head nodded again and Schofield smiled warmly at her. Then he pulled out his own maghook and took aim. Firing it into the ledge he'd told his marines to hide on. He used it to haul himself out of the pit and out of sight.

Just in time as a sentry suddenly appeared in the mouth of the tunnel that lead to the pit. If the marines had been still standing by the pit, trying to rescue the women, they would surely have been caught.

The Kid raised his gun, taking careful aim but Schofield held up a hand in a clear 'hold your fire' signal. The Kid looked confused and even a little angry but he complied and lowered the gun.

The sentry took stock of the situation and seemed satisfied because he left again.  
All four marines breathed a sigh of relief.

"What in the name of sweet baby Jesus is going on here?" Mother hissed in the dark. "How'd you know he was gonna appear?"

"If you knew someone had broken into your smuggling operation, wouldn't you make checking on your goods your top priority?" Schofield asked bitterly, his tone unusually flat and harsh.

"This isn't a kidnap," he continued, "it's a full on human trafficking sting. We can't get the women out ourselves without being noticed and even if we did, we'd never get back up the passageway without having to fight our way out. We can't put their lives at risk like that."

"So what do we do?" The Kid asked earnestly.

Behind reflective silver lenses, Schofield's eyes lit up.  
"We make them get the women out."

**25****th**** December, 1331**

Schofield outlined the plan.

Some commanders might have been reluctant to trust to The Kids explosive skills, especially after he had been at least partially responsible for the accidental detonation that had resulted in his own hearing loss, but not the Scarecrow.

"Hey Kid," he said as the young marine scurried off the ledge. "It's gotta look good."

The Kid smiled back up at him, full and toothy with more than a small hint of mischief.  
"I can do good," he said and disappeared.

Whilst The Kid set the trap, Schofield himself disappeared off into the dark corner to fiddle with something as well. This was getting out of hand. If they were all getting out of this alive, it was time to call in the cavalry.

**25****th**** December, 1348**

It didn't take long until The Kid scrambled back onto the ledge and tossed a small object Schofield's way. He caught it deftly, saying, "Is it enough to fool them Kid?"

"Oh there's no need to fool them, Sir," The Kid shot back. "There's nothing fake about the bomb I planted, enough C4 to blow this whole mountain to kingdom come, except the trigger. I rigged up a fake timer and attached it to the bomb. As far as these assholes are concerned, they've got about twenty minutes before we blow this whole joint. But really it won't blow until you hit that trigger."

"Let's hope it won't come to that," Schofield said, tucking the trigger carefully into his breast pocket. He looked down into the pit and caught the bright eye of the little girl.

"Nadia," he called to her, "Scream, darling, as loud as you can."

And scream she did.

A high pitched little girl's scream. The other women around her looked confused but she waved her arms encouragingly and they quickly got the idea. One by one, their screams filled the cavern until the guards came rushing it and the first thing they saw was The Kids bomb proclaiming their doom in flashing red numbers.

_19:23_

Two of the guards skirted around the side of the pit and immediately bolted up another side passageway whilst the rest of the guards panicked, pointing at the timer and then back up the main tunnel. The other two guards returned, carrying a large ladder and a handful of whips. Before the timer had hit the eighteen minute mark, they had the women out of the pit and heading back up the passage in a group.

"What happens now?" Mario asked.

"Now they show us the way out," Schofield replied.

**25****th**** December, 1405**

Seeing as someone had unfortunately caused a cave in over the main entrance, the smugglers pushed the women through a different series of long, low, twisting tunnels that sloped steadily upwards towards an alternate opening. They never realised they were leading their enemies to safety along with the captives. They kept up a relentless pace and were free with the whips if anyone fell behind. Every time a whip licked at the heels of one of the poor women, Schofield felt her shriek of pain go through him like a knife.

The problem was it took them half an hour.

**25****th**** December, 1420**

They were in sight of the opening, daylight poured through the mouth of the cave, stunning their eyes, when a particularly large and brutal looking thug stopped the group.

As Schofield knew and the thug obviously realised, the bomb should have gone off a full twelve minutes ago.

The thug seized the nearest woman by her hair and was pointing his gun wildly at her and then the other women in turn.  
Schofield didn't need to know the words to understand what was being said.

His mind made up, he reached into his breast pocket and closed his hand around the small metal device.

"It's the only way," he said to Mother.

She nodded.

His thumb brushed the trigger button.

He pushed it.

**25****th**** December, 1421**

_Boom_

From the inside of the cave it sounded like the end of the world. A thunderous rumble that started in the centre of the plateau and pushed until it rattled the very edges. Fireballs hurled themselves along the passageways leading off the pit cavern, incinerating any smugglers left in the inner caves. The walls of the pit cavern and the tunnel that led to it collapsed instantly, burying the scorched remains forever. The collapse echoed outwards, spreading through the passageways, chasing the group of marines and smugglers and their captives. Near the entrance way, it was like a stampede. As the floor rocked beneath their feet and the stones above their heads began to shake ominously, the smugglers turned tail and fled, pushing the women aside in their desperation to get to safety. Schofield had rightly guessed that the smugglers would never put the lives of the women above their own. His own team was hot on their heels, gathering up the women as they went, shepherding them towards the mouth of the cave.

A cloud of dust overtook them and stones began to fall upon them in earnest when they burst through the mouth and into the now very welcome heat.

Many of the women were crying.

Schofield and his team flung themselves to the ground, breathless.

The smugglers however, well they had run straight into the welcoming arms of the Algerian Police.

Breathing heavily, Schofield turned his eyes upon his forearm. The message he had sent off earlier was still visible.  
As was another that must have come through during the chaos.

The LED screen read:

_Mr Fairfax,_

_For God's sake don't ask why but if you get a moment, could you send the Algerian Police force to this location?_

_Thanks,  
Scarecrow_

Below, the reply said:

_Consider it done, Merry Christmas Scarecrow._

"Are your holidays always like this?" Mario said as he spat out a mouthful of sand.

On the ground beside him, The Kid managed to gasp out, "I thought you said it would be a milk run."

Schofield looked at Mother.  
"Don't say I told you so."

"What?" Mother replied, "It wouldn't be Christmas without uncovering an international human trafficking organisation now would it."

Schofield just shrugged as he sent off a reply to David Fairfax. There would be time for beers and long explanations later. For now, he just said:

_Merry Christmas David._

**25****th**** December, 2030**

When they finally trudged back into the camp, Zack and Emma were speechless. The marines were dirty, thirsty and accompanied by 23 famished looking young women. Tomorrow, the police would begin the long task of identifying the women, some of whom had been missing for several years and returning them to their families. Until then, it had been decided they would stay in the American camp as they were the closest available food and water source.  
Someone had apparently blown up the smugglers water supply.

Bertie was the first to greet them, whizzing over excitedly to Schofield.

"Hey Buddy," Shane said, "Got your wheels fixed then?"

Bertie beeped happily and sped off.

Christmas dinner that night was a very subdued affair. They only had spam and a handful of precious canned Christmas puddings to go around but somehow, it seemed a very merry Christmas indeed.

_fin._


End file.
